Durzo Hawke [ w.i.p ]

[Durzo]

Character

Name:
Durzo Hawke

Alignment:
Pro-Government

Race:
Half Elf

Archetype:
Archer

Age:
20

Height:
6'3''; 190.5 cm

Weight:
189lbs; 85.73kg

Description:
He's always been deemed a giant amongst his peers but his height has been known to be dwarfed rather easily. Six feet, three inches and as much of an athlete as he is a lazy ass, Durzo wields the musculature of a young man aged in the scene of adventure and sadly enough, turmoil. With a diet focused on the fruits of his labor he has gained the strength to cause a good deal of sentience to forfeit life on his account; but, such did not come without sacrifice on his own behalf.

Such sacrifices have hardened his features to some and softened them to others, however, regardless of the person his eyes are never-changing. They are truly the windows to his soul and with such ferocity do they burn! Snaps of blue fill his irises and their shades flicker ever so slightly in dependence of his mood. It's the piercing stare that he is known for however; a family trait inherent through generations of instinctual breeding and it is the stare that earns him the name Hawke.

The very perspective, and the soul that has been birthed through peace and tribulation, have been given physical appearance through the utilization of ink on flesh and the tattoos that he has come to possess overtime do not deter from the "natural" beauty he was blessed with. Wings find themselves emblazoned just above the ankles of Durzo in lieu of the swiftness that speak of his peregrine behaviour. In addition to the ink that resides upon his feet lies a tattoo fashioned directly in the middle of his chest. An odd crest bearing a double dagger with a compass in the background makes its home there, where the crest originates from no one truly knows.


Possessions

Blade:
Durzo's blade, Reverie, was forged for him by a dwarf of countless generations. Light as a feather the 42" bastard sword enables Durzo to utilize the hand and a half grip in the best way possible on the battlefield. With a slightly spiked pommel the blade was fashioned for him after he befriended the dwarf and became his errand boy.

Bow:
The ranged fighter knows his limits but always aspires to spread his accuracy across a greater distance and in similar fashion the Raptor knows its limits within the sky but they climb ever higher and dive ever faster to push beyond the norm. Aptly named is his 62'' recurve bow. The design itself originates from the Elvish culture where such finesse is practiced for generations until perfected.

Armor:
The City Guard are rather strict in their appearance. As such Durzo is forced to don the fatigues of the
protectors of Thar Shaddin and even though he is restricted in the individuality he pays no heed to the misfortune. Instead Durzo dons the armor proudly in hopes of ascending the ranks.

Leather armor with shaded hue is the basis of his wardrobe. Practiced hands treated the leather continuously until it became the near fireproof trappings befitting a loyalist. Gloves follow suit with the outfit and finely accent the thin metal plates that adorn his torso and legs. The greaves themselves are plain and simplistic in nature so that he might be granted grace and be devoid of any major hindrance. He wears a helm as well to disclose his features from the major populace and continue the tradition that has held for centuries. The sallet helmet bears a visor that, when placed before his visage, grants Durzo sight through one rectangular slit in the metal.

Pouch:
Currency is needed to survive in society, without it one becomes nothing more than the rats of the sewers that pilfer scraps so as to stave off starvation for but a few more moments. Unless otherwise needed Durzo tries to keep a steady supply of coin on his person however the amount is never past 200 bishani.

Powers

Magic:
His Elven heritage grants him an undeniable link to the Astral Plane. This link is rather weak and it is also unknown to him however, with what small connection he has Durzo is able to accomplish a few tricks.
• Illuminate: From Durzo's left hand arises a small orb of luminescence that substitutes a torch. The added effect enables Durzo to use both hands because the orb suspends itself in the air.
• Climb: In the days when he was but a small boy trying to survive on the streets Durzo would often find the need to escape from less than happy souls. Climb enabled him to scale otherwise nearly impossible environments to escape.
• Dexterity: The dexterity provided by the Astral Plane enables Durzo to nock arrows to a bow string faster and swing his sword with more finesse.
• Surge: Although a weak spell due to the firm ban on magic Surge grants the user the ability to infuse their weapon with a slight current so as to cause the weapon to vibrate. The vibrations enable deeper wounds.
• Perception: Most definitely the weakest of abilities in his arsenal Perception enables Durzo to better acquaint himself with the truth of things. His awareness of his surroundings is ever so slightly above the norm.
• Aegis: Provided by the pendant upon his neck is a small buffer between Durzo and outside forces. Unfortunately the thin shield is only able to take glancing blows and parry's; if it were to be struck full on then the entire system would fail and need time to regain its previous integrity.

Strengths:
• Wisdom: Despite the fact that Durzo is young he far exceeds a good deal of men in the acknowledgement of wisdom.
• Truth: He is not a holy man, Durzo is rather far from it. But, within his arsenal is a knack for charm. Truth is the embodiment of that charm.
• Humility: Durzo knows his place but he aspires to be higher.
• Chivalry: The manners derivative of a noble-classed individual are not beyond him. He may be of less than fortunate origins but such trials have given him a higher understanding of polite behavior.
• Valor: The backbone that is needed to face a foe, no matter how formidable. A coward is already dead to the world and Durzo won't give his life so easily.
• Heart: The ability to thrive in emotion, no matter what sort of emotion it is Durzo utilizes it to further the fire that will grant him success to his cause.

Weaknesses:
• One-Tract Mind: He set a goal for himself; to become a City Guard no matter the cost. Sometimes this gets in the way of his relationships.
• Confidence: Although it can be a good thing, confidence can easily turn into cockiness if one does not truly know their opponent.
• Justice: In this land Justice has many forms and often times it's true form can become askew to serve a political purpose.
• Memory: The memories of his childhood still haunt him, as do the things that he had to do in order to achieve his goal of becoming a City Guard
• Language: His early life was devoid of a motherly touch and because of such he has grown use to a certain vocabulary set. Because of this he often times must be wary of whom he is conversing with.
• Overextension: Exhaustion induced from overworking often befalls Durzo. This may result in heavy drinking and smoking.

History:

The bustle of the city had dimmed to a murmur in the waning hours of the day. As the sun settled ever closer towards the horizon line the guard duty changed and with the change came the eruption of skittering children who, in the midst of the slight confusion, took advantage of time and pilfered both food and bishani alike.

Small outcries of conscious victims arose from the dim and settled upon vigilant ears, the City Guard answered the call. Their armor clanked and clamored as they hurried through the streets to catch the escaping ruffians if not catch them in the act. The children, as scared as they were of being caught, began to play games with the Guardsmen. Their displays of acrobats and death-defying stunts learned through a few years of practice carried them swiftly through the alleys and along the tops of the buildings.

The thoughts of the orphanages rang clear within their minds and gave them the fear needed to fuel their little bodies away from their poor friends whom had been caught. They knew it was a slim chance they would escape, and an even slimmer chance that they would get to see one another again but such was the way of life for a sewer rat. Countless stories were to be told that night around the small barrels of fire they utilized for warmth and light in the underground, many of those stories would be so exaggerated that soon fairy tales would float into the mix until every one of them were fast asleep beneath the scraps of cloth they called blankets.

In the midst of the slumbering children though, one small boy awoke to a beating heart and a cold sweat. He clambered from his roost and tip-toed past the malnourished unfortunates. Light from a nearby vent caught his dirt ridden face and a small tear trailed down his cheek to leave a porcelain streak in the midst of sewer gunk and grime. A small crucifix swung from his left hand and as the boy climbed closer towards the light the silver shine, although marred by dirt and grime as well, cascaded along the ground before him and danced in the tune of sad reminiscence.

He had not known the loving touch of a mother nor father. Instead all he knew was the piercing whip of Gnasher, their leader. He wasn't exactly their leader persay, he led a small group of underground teens to do the dirty work of some less than moral organizations. Moreso, he was their slaver. Their coin went to his pocket as payment for living in his tunnels; of course, the tunnels weren't his to own but the children knew no different and neither did the boy. He simply did as he was told so as to survive. But he wanted more.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Aspirations and a goal intertwined into one for the lad as he was escaping from the very Guard he would come to call his own. His acrobatics were no match for the fresh runner that had caught him pickpocketing a businessman, instead he had to utilize a bit of ingenuity to outsmart the pursuer. Of course, for an eleven year old the most his ingenuity reached was a simple feign but the feign would have worked were it not for some loose boards.

The boy fell from the roof and crashed into the small shop below. It stank of sweat, burning metal, and a great deal of alcohol. The dust from the collapse settled and as the boy opened his eyes in agony he gazed upwards at two faces. The guardsman had found his way down from the roof and stood before him with mace brandished and ready. Beside him resided a small plump man and the look on his face appeared more sinister than the guard's. The sinister visage of the dwarf shifted to face the guard.

"I'll take it from here, Pietr. Do not forget the items that belong to this lad's latest victiim."

Pietr, the guard apparently, nodded in understanding. They knew each other? Well, that was quite the damnedest thing for the thief.

"What are you going to do with him, Snag?"

Snag? He wondered what kind of man would suit such an odd name and then he saw them. The dwarf's teeth were slightly askew.

"Make him work of course! The boy obviously needs a home, so let's give him one."

"Are you sure he will stay?"

Snag's head cocked slightly in thought as he looked back to Pietr. What would make the lad stay and do as he was told? Snag waddled towards the boy and with burly arms he hoisted him to his feet.

"There is food and shelter in it for you."

Snag smiled as the boy nodded in quiet agreement. Sorrow etched his features as the understanding of restricted freedom came into full realization. His steps drudgingly carried him towards the smithing anvil and with grimy digits he caressed the iron. Pietr recognized the boy's understanding and instantly felt a tad bit of compassion for him.

"Now lad, this is everything one of your position could ask for. And who knows, perhaps with a little guidance you too can become one of the City Guard."

The gesture was out of politeness for sure but the look upon the youth's face was priceless for Pietr who had never begotten a son, let alone a child period. His wife was barren and their love so immense for each other that Pietr could not bring himself to lay with another. A leather gloved hand ruffled at the trusses of hair upon the boy's head.

"What should we name him, Snag?"

"What're you asking me for? You're the one giving him the fatherly stare."

Pietr looked flabbergasted towards Snag as though he had committed sin. The intense emotion subsided within moments however and gave way to one of longing. He did want a son, perhaps he was destined for a child after all.

"Alright, he shall be named Durzo. Durzo Hawke."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

As the years progressed Durzo's demeanor shifted from sly and mischievous to collected and confident.

[Frug]

Just no.

The approach and the style are not fit for these forums. I suggest taking a look at what we have, along with the rules, and trying again.

[Durzo]

Obviously it's not done, but is it a tad better?

The reason I did it the way I did beforehand was because I was using a template I have used on countless other forums before this one. Admittedly it was a tad frilly around the edges however, I would have appreciated a less firm response than the one you had posted.

[Niabi]

I'll handle the application process from here on out, just leave a reply here when you are finished with it and need somebody to read over it again.